A generation ago we’d pack up the family in search of a baseball diamond. That was a suitable activity for a family party or reunion. And there’s nothing wrong with it. Grandpa Porter played, the Johnsons, Bailey’s and Trotters all played—I even periodically hear that there’s been angling for a game the last few summers. But it continues to impress me the amount of times my cousins and I end up involved in Frisbee games.

These are the latest inductees into our most recent family sport. On the opposite side of the yard were (over the course of the game) two more kids, five adults (when I came out from behind the camera) from the next two older generations. Plus five additional adults on the sidelines to yell when there was too much rough-housing, to cry, “Fore” much too late for it to be useful, and generally offer bad advice. At least four Frisbees were being used and ended up in the neighbor’s yard more times than I can count. And at least two of those landed on top of the awning or the garage. It was fabulous chaos in my parents back yard!